


Afternoon Delight

by theclaravoyant



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Banter, Chocolate Sauce, Foreplay, Humour, M/M, MCU Kink Bingo, Smut, smut with feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-18 15:40:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16121576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theclaravoyant/pseuds/theclaravoyant
Summary: It's been a long day and Fitz is hungry, but when he gets to the kitchen he finds a different kind of snack than he was expecting...





	Afternoon Delight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Florchis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Florchis/gifts).



> I frequently make jokes about Fitz licking chocolate sauce off people and @florchis finally challenged me to put my money where my mouth was and write it, so here we are!
> 
> This was also written for Slashtember at @aosficnet2 and Smutember at @leofitznetwork on tumblr.
> 
> Also fills the FitzHunter free space on my [mcubingo card](http://theclaravoyant.tumblr.com/post/175060875338/mcu-bingo-masterpost) and also the free space on my [mcukinkbingo card](http://theclaravoyant.tumblr.com/post/175108028171/mcu-kink-bingo-masterpost-note-not-100-nsfw) bc why not :)
> 
> Anyway, without further ado - Enjoy!

It was late afternoon, and Fitz had a hankering for something. What exactly, he wasn’t sure, but he was restless with the craving and so he decided to make his way to the kitchen. When was restock day, he wondered - he’d lost track of that kind of thing lately, though the rumble of his stomach scolded him for having done so. There’d be something he could eat, he promised himself, even if he shouldn’t be too ambitious about it.

And then he arrived, and his jaw dropped.

Someone had indeed restocked, quite extensively in fact, and all over the central island bench were punnets of fresh strawberries, and a couple of spray cans of whipped cream and bottles of chocolate sauce. His mouth watered.

Hunter, who had been busy clearing space in the fridge, spun and jumped and yelped with surprise. Instinctively covering the scene of his crime, he tried to cover the space he’d created as if that made it less obvious that the strawberries, chocolate, and cream were his.

“Fitz! What are you doing here?”

Fitz gestured at the fridge behind Hunter. Somehow he didn’t feel like he should cross the space to get to it. Something was going on here.

“… Getting a snack,” he said.

Hunter snorted, and grinned. The awkwardness of having been caught in his plans a few steps too early, was beginning to rapidly fade in the face of the prospect of… moving those plans up a few stages.

_“Yeah_ you are,” he mused.

He bit his lip, and looked Fitz up and down with an appreciative, lascivious eye. He closed therefrigerator door with a slow, deliberate purpose, and with his eyes on Fitz the whole time as he began to cross the room. Under such a powerful gaze, Fitz felt a different kind of hunger begin to rumble inside him, and when Hunter finally caught up he fell into the kiss with ravenous glee. There was something sweet, like caramel and ice-cream on his breath, and Fitz drank it in until he was grinning.

“I thought you weren’t getting in ’til tomorrow,” he pointed out, and turned a little to gesture at the array of food Hunter had brought home. “What’s all this?”

“We lost the mark,” Hunter explained. “Dropped back into base to find him again - Daisy’s holed up upstairs right now. In the meantime… I thought we could have a bit of fun.”  
  
“Prank fun or…”

“Noooo, the other kind of fun,” Hunter suggested, smirking as he wrapped his arms around FItz’s waist. “Although, I did get a lot, so we could always do both?”

“I’m… curious,” Fitz confessed, “about what chocolate sauce has to do with the ‘other kind of fun’. Seems like a sticky mess if you ask me.”

“And it’s not a sticky mess to begin with?” Hunter challenged.

Fitz had to concede that point, and so he let Hunter make his case. Hunter scampered back to the bench, ravenous excitement on his face, and picked up a bottle of chocolate sauce.

“It’s all quite self explanatory, really,” he said, squeezing a small swirl of it onto his finger. “You like me, you like sexy times, you like chocolate sauce. Right? So you combine them and what do you get?”

He crooked the saucy finger in Fitz’s direction, and Fitz guffawed and crossed his arms.

“You look ridiculous,” he scoffed. Hunter shrugged, and waved his finger through the air. 

“Okay, I mean, if you’re sure…”

Nonchalantly - a little _too_ nonchalantly - Hunter slid his finger between his lips, taking his time to lick the sauce off. Fitz’s crossed arms tightened. Hunter did, indeed, look ridiculous, but all sex was ridiculous in its own way. The humour of the moment certainly didn’t stop the heat creeping up the back of Fitz’s neck, or the tightness in his pants, or the way he began to imagine what that soft, warm, sticky-sweet skin would feel like against his tongue…

“Sorry,” Hunter continued, waving a hand as casual as anything, as if the the softcore pornographic music playing was all in Fitz’s head. “You wanted a snack, right?”

He turned back toward the fridge, but took his time to pull it open - enough so that Fitz could come up behind him, wrap his arms around his waist, and breathe in the chocolate on his breath. Warm, sticky, sweet. Hunter.

Hunter, who turned in Fitz’s arms, and grinned because he knew exactly what he’d been doing with all of this. Hunter, who squeezed a flush of chocolate onto his tongue and kissed Fitz with it until the air between them was as thick and rich as as a fudge sundae. Hunter, who hummed with satisfaction at Fitz’s ragged breath and the smear of chocolate across his lips, and the stiff bulge in his pants that begged for attention.

“You’ve been alone here by yourself for too long, love,” Hunter murmured. “Don’t you worry, we’ll get you all straightened out.”

“Ha. Never.”

Hunter snorted with laughter and it was quickly swallowed by more of Fitz’s hungry kisses. His tongue pressed forward, searching for every last drop of chocolate inside Hunter’s wonderful mouth, while Hunter ran his hands over Fitz’s pants, giving himself a moment to appreciate what awaited him before he wrenched at the belt buckle, eager to embrace it.

“Wait, wait-“ Fitz gasped, struggling to catch his breath. Hunter paused, frowning at those desire-blown eyes for a reason, an instruction, a hesitation. Fitz simply beamed and snatched the chocolate bottle from his hand.

“I’m not done with this yet,” Fitz insisted, and grabbed Hunter’s hand and ran.

“What are you _doing?”_ Hunter spluttered. “Daisy’s upstairs, we…”

Hunter’s objections died on his lips, replaced by breathless laughter and then a giddy sort of silence as Fitz dragged him down the hall toward his bedroom. The both of them were terribly dishevelled and chocolate had already gotten into some places chocolate was not usually supposed to be - to any onlooker their plans would be painfully obvious - and yet he felt like a teenager; invigorated, thrilled by the prospect of being found out, even for a second.

Then that second passed, and Fitz shoved Hunter away from the potential for prying eyes,through his door and onto the bed. A tingle ran down Hunter’s spine as the springs struggled to catch him, as though surprised by such a weight, being flung upon them in such a manner. Hunter couldn’t stop smiling. Fitz was not usually so forward in matters of the bedroom, but he could get used to this. It was not a bad view, he mused, as Fitz pulled his shirt off and ditched it to the floor, panting with his own reckless delight and arousal.

“What are you waiting for?” Fitz demanded, still deliciously out of breath. “Take your shirt off.”

“On it,” Hunter agreed, and pulled the whole thing, buttons and all, over his head and onto the floor. He laid back, exposing his naked torso to Fitz. All his muscles, all his nicks and scars. Much like Hunter himself had done, Fitz paused to take him in for a moment, and licked those chocolate spattered lips with a deep and blatant, shameless desire.

“What are you waiting for?” Hunter prompted. “I thought you were hungry.”

“Oh, shut up,” Fitz groaned, but crawled onto the bed nonetheless.

“You love it.”

“Stay still.”

Fitz uncapped the chocolate sauce, and draw a pattern on Hunter’s chest. A picture, a simple one, reaching from the ridges of his shoulders to the lowest part of his belly before his belt buckle. And if Hunter was not mistaken, it was no random assignment of sauce. He lifted his head, trying to take a peek at it, and saw it for what it was: a big, if crudely drawn, love heart.

“Aww,” he crooned. “You romantic son of a bitch.”

“You love it,” Fitz replied.

“Yes. Yes I do.”

Hunter sighed all his frustration and tension away as Fitz set to work, kissing and licking away the chocolate sauce with passionate determination. He let his head drop back and closed his eyes, listening to the sucking sounds, and the creaking of the mattress beneath them as Fitz moved, always trying to get the best angle. Feeling the flush of heat at every renewed touch, every breath, and the cool touch of the air on the trail that Fitz left as he made his way from Hunter’s chest, over one of the heart’s rounded ridges, and then downward toward its peak, downward, downward…

Oh, yes, Hunter though, letting his body arc into Fitz’s touch and stand to attention as he crept ever closer. He most certainly could get used to this. But he also wouldn’t object if Fitz decided to change his mind halfway through the heart and mix things up. Plans were overrated, after all.


End file.
